How many seconds?
by Chill
Summary: In Pratchett's shadow of using real life places, Dali's "Persistence of Memory" features here.
1. Clockwork Explosions

Fabien ran through the halls to the master's office, he stopped just outside the door to catch his breath and then threw himself into the room. His master looked up in surprise from his morning cup of tea, but before he could get a word out, Fabien had pinned him to the floor, shielding him with his body. Suddenly, they were both lifted off the wooden pannels by a huge wave of hot air that was followed by a large ball of flame and, finally, a deafening roar. They clung to each other, flying through the air and landed in an abandoned barrel of tomatoes. As he watched, Master Gruddle, head of the Guild of Clockwork Clocks, Water-Powered Clocks, Sundials and other types of time-keeping machines, saw the building that had housed the guild since it had come to exist burst into flame. The flames spared nothing, for the guild house had been built in the traditional Ankh-Morpork style, with dry wood for insulation and a thatched roof, painted with tar to keep the rain out. Gruddle saw his desk fly out of the mass of burning wreckage and land on one of the golem fire brigade that had just arrived to stamp out the fire. The golem in question snapped the desk in two and proceeded to stamp on it till it was nothing but chars and wood chippings, though definitely without fire.   
Once it was all over, Gruddle stared at the apprentice, Fabien, who was cowering in ketchup. He took a deep breath,  
-"What he hell was that?!" he yelled at the whimpering novice.  
-"mumblemumble mstr Gdl..." came the answer.  
"What? Speak up boy!" Gruddle was red in the face, but whether it was anger or the heat, the student couldn't quite figure out. Whatever it was, it was scary.  
He took a breath and said:  
"Kevin Googe Master Gruddle..."  
Gruddle gave him a look, Fabien took another breath,  
"He was trying to... to... to... umm..," he faltered but his master gave him another look. He found some courage and tried again, "to combine umm... clockmaking with umm... ", he said something that would possibly be heard by a dog with a hearing aid.  
"Spit it out boy!" said Gruddle.  
Fabien took a last breath, this was the big one,  
"... with alchemy sir." and with that, he passed out.  
  
  
  



	2. Persistence of Memory by Salvadore Dali

Kevin Googe looked around himself. He appeared to be on some sort of arid land with dry trees here and there. On the trees were hanging melted clocks. He was bewildered.  
"Hallo?" he called, "anyone there?"  
The words didn't seem to leave like normal ones do, these hung around, skulking under rocks.  
INDEED.  
The voice was not unlike that of tombstones being used as a set of cutlery would have if they could talk.  
Kevin whipped around. Behind him was standing a skeleton, seven feet high, wearing a long black robe and holding a huge scythe in one hand. In the other, he held a clock.  
"Oh." said Kevin.  
Death nodded.  
"Where am I?" he asked.  
IN YOUR AFTERLIFE.  
Kevin blinked.  
DO NOT WORRY.  
He blinked again. The Grim Reaper was a about to say something, but was interrupted.  
"'s a bit, how can I put this, stale isn't it?" asked Kevin.  
Death sighed, he had a deep sigh, with the sound of wind passing right through the chest, which is what it was.  
THIS IS NOT QUITE THE AFTERLIFE, he said, IT'S A BIT TECHNICAL. YOU WILL ARRIVE IN THE CORRECTLY DESIGNATED PARADISE/HEAVEN/REINCARNATED BODY (SELECT APPROPRIATE) ONCE YOU HAVE GOTTEN A MESSAGE ACROSS TO THOSE WHOM YOU NEARLY KILLED BY MISTAKE.  
Kevin looked at him,  
"You rehearsed that, didn't you?"  
Death hung his head, with a noise of bone on bone and sheepishly handed him a piece of paper.  
Kevin read it. He read it again. Just to be on the safe side, he read it once more.  
"And how am I meant to send this to them?"  
THAT IS UP TO YOU.  
"Oh."  
ANYTHING ELSE, ONLY THERE'S A PLAGUE IN HOWONDALAND, AND I HATE DEALING WITH QEUES.  
"'s a bit deep innit, I mean, a bit pessimistic an' all."  
THE GODS PLAY GAMES, and, with that, he clicked his fingers. An ebony white horse that had miraculously found some grass to graze trotted over. Death climbed on and clicked his teeth. The horse took a few steps into the air and vanished.  
Just to be absolutely certain, Kevin re-read the message. 


	3. Stare 'em' out.

  
...the Gods play games... or at least, those of the Discworld do, high up on Dunmanifestin. And they do not used regular playing pieces, not they use the lives of men.  
Offler the crocodile god sighed,  
-"I'fe tole you before," he said (having a large jaw lined with teeth is quite a speech impediment), "that I hate it when people bring dead piethes into play again."  
His oponent looked up. All gods can change their shape, with the exception of their eye. Blind Io had several eyes, but none in his head. They lead a semi-independent life around him and currently all turned to look, unblinkingly at Offler. Io was currently shaped like a balding banker, so the effect was a bit spoiled. Nevertheless, Offler, who prefered the good old crocodile and hardly ever bothered to change shape, squirmed.  
"And there'th no call for looking at me like that either!" he protested.  
Io remained silent. Offler shrank under the gaze.  
"Oh go on then," he growchingly accepted.  
Io's eyes bobbed up and down, their equivalent of a nod, and went back to staring at whatever it was they were staring at.  
Io moved a piece that looked remarkably like Kevin Googe, though a transparent Kevin Googe, one place forward.  
"I hate theethe bloody strategy gameth too," muttered Offler under his breath. 


	4. Student heroes

The master stared at the wreckage, picking up a clock face here, kicking over a charred beam there. He sighed. It had all been going so well! For the first time the guild money charts were up to scratch, the education rate was close to the Assassin's and they had been getting more graduates than they had done in ages! It was just too good to be true. Finally, he found it. Lying a little to the side of the worst of the rubble and hidden under the stones that used to be the archway was a tiny safe, the size of one of the cobbles it was lying on. He grunted as he twisted the slightly fused knob and finally took out a tiny money pouch, an ivory clock a bit larger than a dollar coin and a knife. He slotted all of these in the pockets of his boots and made his way to where the apprentices were making stories of how they saved such a person who was in fact, saving another person at the time.  
They fell silent as he approached.  
-"How's young Fabien?" he asked.  
A young, spotty-faced boy answered immediately:  
"Sir, fine, sir. I pulled him the window before the big fire-ball sir. He was unconscious sir."  
"Really? Well, well, there's a thing and where is he?" Gruddle's face was poker-blank.  
"Over there sir," came the pmply-faced youth pointing to the other side of the wreckage.  
Gruddle nodded and picked his way towards where he'd been pointed. Fabien was crouched on a small piece of rock looking at wreckage, crying softly.  
Gruddle watched him for a while and then sat down beside him. The apprentice looked up smartly, hastily wiping his eyes.  
"Now then young Fabien," the master's voice had lost all it's previous harshness, "you seem a bit out of sorts."  
Fabien sighed and reached for the plank he'd been staring at. He swiftly pulled it up adn replaced, just enough time for the master to see the dead body of Kevin Googe.  
"I see," he said, "good friend of yours?"  
Fabien nodded mutely.  
The master sighed.  
"Fabien," he began, "where were you when the explosion started?"  
"In the cellar sir," he muttered thickly.  
The master nodded, "And you came up to my office, why?"  
"Regulations, sir."  
The master nodded again. It was true, Rule 32b of the Guild had been: Should A Student Put The Master At Risk, He Must Take Him Out Of It. Seeing as in the Guild, they had a single student policy, each student counted as all students, therefore all students had to obey this rule, no matter who actually started the trouble.  
"No other student came to my aide, Fabien," said the master after a while.  
"No, sir."  
"Yet you did."  
"Yes, sir."  
"Tell me Fabien," said Gruddle after a while, "and tell me truthfully, why did you save me?"  
"Regulations sir."  
Gruddle nodded, "I see."  



	5. On squashing rocks

Kevin walked around the barren beach, searching for a way out. How was he meant to get this message across? And what would happen to him when he did? There was no use speculating on that. He had to set about this properly...  
He kicked a stone. Instead of rolling away like any good stone should, it squelched inwards. Kevin took a closer look. Just visible was a tiny red button. He pressed it. Suddenly, all the handles on the clocks around him began spinning, the clocks seemed to straighten out while still remaining melted and flopped over. Kevin stared around himself in bewilderment as he was suddenly picked up by a gust and thrown high in the air. Screamong silently, he watched the strange land become a distant pinprick below him and slowly get bigger. Only, it wasn't the land of melted clocks, but the shattered remains of the guild.  
He landed heavily but seemingly without hurting himself. He shook his head and cast his eyes about himself in bewilderment. There, not five feet from where he was standing, were the master and... Fabien? The master always avoided the students, what was happening?  
He walked swiftly towards them and then through them. He turned in amazement just in time to see the master put a plank over... his body? Ah. The truth dawned on him.   
Now that he was dead, everything seemed so much simpler, so much clearer. He knew what he had to do. He bent down to the plank and pulled his hand from under. Somehow, he didn't pass through it. He shoved the note in it and pushed it back under.  



	6. The Message

Gruddle paused in his train of thought. Had he just seen movement under the plank? He lifted it up, Fabien watching agog, and noticed Kevin's clenched fist. Wordlessly, he opened it, and took the note out. He read it dumbly and passed it to Fabien who read it. Their eyes met and they both stared at Kevin's corpse.  
  
***  
  
Ten years later, Master Fabien took out the small ivory clock passed on to him as it had been to Master Gruddle. He checked the time on it and checked it on the huge clock that he was facing. He nodded satisfactorily and conemplated the new guild. It had been built rather along the lines of the previous one with a few different details. The first, and most striking, was that it was completely made of stone, roof and everything. Then there was the tower at the front, in which they'd placed the clock he'd just checked. The final detail was being put up now. It was a guild motto. They'd never had a motto before, but Fabien had realised that this was perfect for the guild. Infact, he'd realised it first ten years previously when he first saw it.  
The dwarfs put up the final dot and he nodded at them. They packed their tools and left. Fabien contemplated the motto. He'd always understood it, but, in huge letters, for the first he... Fabien faltered, he'd never been good with words. Master Gruddle had been, ...realised that it was true. That was right, wasn't it? He sighed and went indoors to visit some classrooms and make the novices feel uncomfortable. Oh yes, Master Gruddle had taught him a lot!  
Outside, a small boy walked past with his father.  
"Dad?"he inquired, "wassat say?"  
The father looked at the motto, moving his lips as he read it.  
"Well son," he said,"it says 'Every second that passes ys one less to lyve..." that's philersopholy, that is."  
The son looked at his father.  
"Oh." he said.  
They walked away.  
  
  
  
Note from author: For those of you who actually enjoyed this story, I have written and uploaded a poem to go with it called 'Ode to Time', sort of a publicity stunt you might say. Then again, perhaps not. 


End file.
